Friday, June 26, 2009

I’ve been stewing about this rotten topic all day, but couldn’t sit down to a computer until now. I wont be shocking anyone by saying Michael Jackson is dead. This is over 24 hours old from being news. But at the crawling span of 24 hours, I’m over it.

Here is a little bit of information about me, Gris Grimly. I haven’t owned a TV for around 7 years now. I don’t like TV. I think it is an evil tool (At worst, to brainwash us. At best, to make us dumb). I could go into many other reasons why I don’t like TV, but you might think I’m a paranoid freak. So I wont. This morning while I was at the gym (don’t comment) I was occasionally distracted by one of the many Television sets on a wall that make up an image straight from Orwell’s 1984. The broadcast selection is slim varying between news, sports, cop dramas and The View. I always have a book with me to read, but will nevertheless find my eyes being yanked up toward the blue glow for a news update. Can you guess what garbage they were hyping all day today? Of course it was Michael Jackson’s death.

Now I might have some pretty morbid thoughts when it comes to my artwork and fictional stories, but when it comes to real life I try to be respectful of deceased parties. Regardless if it’s a gangster or TV evangelist, I feel I should respect the bereaved. No matter who the corpse is, there is always family or loved ones mourning over the dearly departed. I respect that. But seriously…Michael Jackson?

It was only a couple years ago everyone was talking shit about the guy for being a pervert. Even outside of the accusations of playing naked hot potato with young boys, he has committed so many bizarre acts to be shoved among other sociopaths. No celebs were speaking up for ol’ MJ last year when he was being tried for distributing Jesus juice. No matter how many people came out to pin him as a pedophile, money always bought him justice. Elizabeth Taylor (a deranged product of our society as well) backed up Michael Jackson’s innocence to his sleepovers. There is nothing wrong with a grown man in bed with a child if there is no “touchy-feely” going on, right? Despite everything that makes Michael Jackson a sick individual, there are still many of you out there that worship him and are mourning his death. There is nothing I can do about that. I mean there are people out there who worship Charles Manson. Is there really a difference?

But this really isn’t about Michael Jackson. This is about Pop Stars. Yesterday, the tube was projecting fear of North Korea’s access to nuclear weapons. Today, it’s Michael Jackson’s death. Now seriously, there is something really wrong here.It could mean any of the following: 1) the death of a Pop Star is more important to Americans than the threat of a nuclear holocaust. 2) The death of a Pop Star is headlining to deter the attention of Americans toward something superficial while something more vital to our future is taking place. 3) Everything the news is presenting us is fabricated in order to manipulate us into aiding the conduct of a master plan. No matter what option is truth, the media is completely corrupt and Americans are dumb.

What is going on right now? What will Americans remember from the summer of 2009? Last week while I was at the gym, two news stations were broadcasting similar events on TVs next to each other. On the one tube, CNN was covering a parade for peace taking place in Tehran. On the other, FOX was covering a parade for the Lakers’ Championship in Los Angeles. The lady on the exercise bike next to me looked over strangely as I blurted out maniacal laughter to myself. What was going on when Anna Nicole Smith was all over the news? What was going on when the Clinton/Lewinsky affair was all over the news?

Here is a thought: Pop Stars are created to manipulate, distract and send messages to the public that is willing to take it all in. This could be as simple as an opinion on war, their petty dramas that fill the tabloids or a message to “Drink Coke”. They tell us how to dress, what to drive, what to eat and how to talk. I’m not saying a mad scientist created Madonna in a test tube. What do you think I am, some Coo Coo? These Pop Stars are nurtured at an early age before they can even think for themselves. They never experience the years and freedom needed to develop as an individual. By the time they are in their twenties and thirties, they show signs of mental collapse from lack of identity. Look at Britney Spears’s most recent rebellion by shaving her head. From there they crack, break and fall into pieces. All the King’s horses and all the King’s men sweep the pieces to the side and rise up another Pop Star.

Sure, we can blame the parents, talent scouts, agents or Walt Disney TV. But no matter how we look at it, if you participate in the game, you have a hand in the outcome. We take away their childhood, we make them our gods, and then we kill them. Who’s next? Britney Spears? The Olsen Twins? Miley Cyrus? If we don’t kill the pop star, we will continue to kill the people who wear the crown.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

This is something that has been on my mind lately. The idea is old and used up like a rotten corpse. It’s nothing profound, but it is written here nonetheless. I’ve noticed more and more how easily humans are rounded up and shoved down one-thought troughs. Specifically, at this point I’m thinking of beauty in both men and women. Health is one thing. It is important for us to get enough exercise and eat the right foods at the right proportions to maintain healthy bodies. But I’m talking about beauty beyond that.

We all have a personal ideal of what is beautiful (or at least we did at one point in our lives). That is what makes us all unique and paints our environment with individuality. It goes beyond the constant brainwashing of the Calvin Klein billboards. But when there is one world ideal of beauty that passes among the masses and it’s absorbed into their grey matter, this colorful world turns black and white. What we have is a bunch of beautiful people who all look the same and a bunch of not-so-beautiful people who all look the same.

Women and Men have both been victims of this control. Women, for decades have been encouraged to shave their legs and their pits. Now, a well-maintained yard goes beyond just those regions. The same is true now for men. The idea of beauty in a man is pre-pubescent bald from the neck down. There is one body shape that is beautiful, one preference for hair that is beautiful, one type of skin, one tone in muscle and one style of wardrobe. In order to be beautiful we must all squeeze into the same mold. There are the few that fight this control and hold onto individuality.

I pretty much have three turn-ons in women. 1) I love stockings. Not necessarily nylons (although I don’t oppose them) but my Tex Avery wolf is aroused over striped, argyle, skeletal print, wool, fishnet…pretty much any type of expressive stocking. 2) Glasses. I love a woman in glasses. Maybe, not all glasses. My smokestack doesn’t blow for the old 70s Owl eyed spectacles. But a woman in attractive frames will get a double take. Whether it is true or not, glasses reflect a since of maturity and intellect as well as independent thought. 3) Hair pulled back or up is always hot. I’m not saying I have a thing for Amish women, but the sophistication of pulled up hair revs my motor.

Okay enough about my fetishes. But I do have a point. Pretty much two of these things are constantly hammered into the not-so-attractive plank of wood. In the 1946 adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep, Humphrey Bogart’s character insinuates to a librarian to remove her glasses. It isn’t until she does so and drops her hair that he finds her as an object of attraction. This is an age-old perspective that gave rise to the eye contact and hair straightener corporations that are now taking over the world. I hold Bogey in high regards, but as for me I’ll take the librarian over the bimbo.

I know it’s a clichéd saying, but true beauty is on the inside. Love is evidence of this. If someone has the capacity to love, they find beauty beyond physical flaws. For those of you who are incapable of love…well, I guess I don’t envy you. We are all on this world for a very short time. Within that time, there is a shorter amount of time that we are mature enough yet young enough to be attractive. Then what? Breast augmentations? Face lifts? Tummy tucks? Rogaine? Viagra? They’ve created things for us to spend our money on to buy the false security we place in being attractive. But it all leaves us empty. The path to happiness heads the other direction! What should we be spending our energy on…fitting into a mold (some will never fit into), or giving something to the world? Create art, paint, dance, sing, tell stories, cook, love, help the needy, start a revolution…anything but fall into this shallow grave of distraction. Women, love your cuddly bears. Men, hold your skinny “A” cup sweethearts close. And seniors, grab that wrinkled face and kiss it long, because very few people will achieve the depths of love you share with each other. Fly your colors proud (you are beautiful as you are) and lets stick it to the man who is trying to paint this world drab.